Letting the Journey Unfold: A Reminder from the Fog

I sat on the bus this morning looking out across the bay in search of the big red bridge… the bridge I used to know as a symbol of San Francisco, that I played under when I visited Jesse in 8^th grade and then went to  on crutches when I visited him Senior year of high school. The bridge that I took visitors to during my time at Santa Clara, went for runs by from Jesse and Kylies condo and then this summer drove back and forth over again and again. That bridge screams home now, familiarity, beauty and that amazing quick hop from city to wide open beautiful spaces. I miss those wide open spaces. I wanted to post a picture of it as I flew away, one of my oh too typical sappy statuses about leaving a place and the people I love… and out the window all I could see was fog. The tears in my eyes, butterflies in my stomach, dancing between the hurt of leaving and knowing I’m leaving, going to a good place and cant get lost in my emotions all settled for a minute.. settled into what the fog has been a symbol of these past few months- the unknown, and trusting in that. A few months ago I stayed up all night with my head spinning, popped up early to go for a run in search of some sanity and on my regular run around the reservoir I couldn’t see a thing- just fog. I could only see five feet in front of me, and that is exactly what I needed. To stop looking forward, wondering, analyzing, agonizing and just be in the what is here and now- knowing that what comes tomorrow and the rest of forever is way more unknown than I let myself believe.

And this morning-  I needed that reminder. I had a dreamy week in the Bay. I absolutely love it there. I felt relaxed, grounded, thoughtful, inspired, surrounded by love, held, at home and whole. Sunday night mass at Santa Clara felt nourishing instead of just challenging, time with friends that are so comfortable I could completely relax, time outside in the sunshine and open spaces where my bones weren’t frigid and I wasn’t surrounded by people and buildings and lots of really really special time with my family- my little tribe who I really want my whole life to be about. Cooper and I took walks, rolled around on the floor, stayed in our pajamas too late, giggled, cuddled and got right back into spending hours together. And this morning when Jesse walked him into his room for his nap my eyes filled with tears- tears I had no control over. I spent a lot of my life having so much control over my emotions- that those overwhelming moments of ouch sometimes catch me by surprise, but I’m also thankful for them. I love that little guy a whole lot- a special kind of love that I can only imagine will multiply so much when it is my own child- but that blood bond is extra special. Its hard to be far away from him, know that he will keep growing so much and I will pop in and out every six months. But this time there also reminded me that our bond is cemented in and it doesn’t take long for him to refamiliarize with me, and lean his head against me when someone he doesn’t know walks in. He knows I’m safe and everything about him- his giggle, his smirk, his waddle, babbling, stubbornness, snuggles and sweetness, fill my heart with joy.

And being on the other side of the country from him, Jesse and Kylie, so many wonderful friends and a place that feels like home is not my favorite thing. But it’s the way it is right now- for good reason, for a good place, for something that I care about. It doesn’t feel 100% right there yet. And I spent a lot of this break trying to make sense of that- what’s missing? How much of it is it just being a new place? Being in grad school? Being 23 and trying to figure out who I am? I’m going back to a place I know, friends who know me, a routine, a home, so much familiar goodness- and to a semester that is full of surprises. I have no idea what is going to come out of these next four months, and next two and a half years. And while I gather reminders of what it is I need to make a place feel like home, I also am asking again and again for patience and trust in letting Boston and this time be whatever it’s supposed to be.

I’m excited to go back to my wonderful little home, my sweet Sophia sisters, the amazing group of friends we’ve found. To classes that stretch me. To a sense of purpose, potential, growth and the feeling of learning, stretching my heart and brain that is so electrifying. I’m grateful to get back to my space, my routine, a new job working with homeless women that will inspire me and connect me to reality, yoga classes, reservoir runs, a city that still has so much to be explored and so many things I can not yet see. Talking to Ella in the airport we talked about advice someone gave her to just be- not analyze, not question, just be- for one month. And I think that’s really good advice- that is easier said than done. This is a super privileged time- and while I want to keep finding ways to fill in the gaps, I also want to let it unfold, and let myself settle in.

As I walk into my second semester of Grad School I bring an awareness of some missing pieces, a need to nourish my soul in light hearted ways more, a pang of missing what is familiar. I am in touch with how lucky I am to be here- in a new place, learning so much, letting life unfold as it does. And I will keep remembering the fog- trusting in the unknown, and being patient as I find what is waiting for me along the journey.